


Summer Storm

by Vampiyaa



Series: Who Holidays [4]
Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Angst, Beach Sex, Drama, F/M, Fluff, M/M, Multi, Romance, Smut, Summer
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-21
Updated: 2014-06-21
Packaged: 2018-02-05 15:28:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,141
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1823365
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vampiyaa/pseuds/Vampiyaa
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Nine/Rose; Part Six of the Who Holidays series. The Doctor had no idea, when he took Rose Tyler to a beach like she'd been nagging him to for ages, that he'd be spending three quarters of the day driving pretty boys away from her. He also didn't expect to end the summer solstice opening his hearts and letting her burn him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Summer Storm

Summer Storm

The first time Rose asked to go to a beach planet, the Doctor refused at once, because it was far too domestic. Lounging on lawn chairs, splashing around like dolphins in the ocean, drinking unnecessarily colourful drinks and outright getting sand up his bum was not something that appealed to him. The fact that he’d said ‘no’ the split second after she’d asked had apparently hit a nerve, because Rose refused to talk to him for the rest of the day, which was only remedied when he guiltily brought her a cup of tea later in the evening. That wasn’t domestic at all, though. Much.

The second time she asked was months later, directly after they’d kicked Adam out, and, fearful of her wrath, he accepted without hesitation. Except he’d taken her to the tiniest lake on the whole planet Morax, and they’d been arrested on the spot for going near the lake, which had been closed off as a bird sanctuary. Sufficed to say, he was making Rose another cup of tea _and_ bringing her biscuits by day’s end.

The third time he refused again, but for completely different reasons. Jack bloody Harkness had shown up, all pretty and flirting with _his_ Rose, and the Doctor had stumbled upon his rather dangerous feelings by stealing her attention, dancing the night away and outright savouring the way her curves fit against his frame, because it would never come again. Well, until they were forced to hide in a cupboard again, and he’d have to pretend he wasn’t hard at all— not one bit. And the last thing he needed was to see her prancing around in a pathetically tiny bikini, showing off everything he’d been trying very hard to avoid looking at and thinking of to everybody— Harkness included.

Unfortunately, on the first day of summer relative to Rose’s timeline, both she _and_ Jack demanded to be brought to the beach, and the TARDIS herself had already locked in coordinates. So with reluctance, well aware he was probably signing away his sanity, the Doctor piloted the TARDIS to the planet Nahani, on the first day of summer comparative to their calendar. 

“It’s got the largest beaches and the clearest oceans in three galaxies,” the Doctor lectured grudgingly, crossing his arms and leaning against the opened doorway as Rose peered outside with a giant smile. “An’ the summer solstice is celebrated like New Year’s here, so you can have all the ridiculously colourful drinks you want and peruse the local vendors while still havin’ enough time to tan.” 

“No running? No gettin’ arrested ‘cos we looked at someone funny?”

“None o’ that.” 

Rose beamed at him and, laughing happily, tossed her arms around his neck and hugged him tightly. He hugged her back at once, grinning stupidly despite himself and ignoring Jack’s smirk in the background. It almost made it all worth it, until Rose pulled away and took off down the corridor, shouting about getting her bathing suit and Jack’s face slackened into something decidedly goofy and suggestive before running after her. The Doctor scowled at the time rotor as if to say ‘are you happy now?’ and the TARDIS gave a noncommittal hum. 

Of course, it took her over an hour to get ready, and by the time Rose finally showed up the Doctor was extremely cross, having had nobody for company but Jack, who kept sending him knowing and smug looks as though he knew perfectly well what the Doctor was worrying about (which he probably did). Thankfully Rose emerged carrying a yellow handbag, wearing a lovely yellow skirt and a blue jean jacket instead of what he’d been fearing, but it wasn’t as though the skirt was helping matters— naturally it clung to her in all the right places and showed off her bum, which Jack stared at almost voraciously. 

“Took you long enough,” he grumbled, staring hard outside to avoid looking at her and nearly getting his retinas burned by the twin suns as payment. 

“Sod off,” Rose said good-naturedly, linking arms with him and beaming up at him despite his grumpiness. Once again he found himself smiling back against his will. “Let’s go!” 

Rose pulled him out of the TARDIS and into the sunlight. They’d parked in the cover of three alien trees that twisted around in a spiral, and upon emerging were met with the hustle and bustle of dozens of species tottering around an enormous marketplace, just two hundred yards away from a massive beachfront. The waters of the ocean were the clearest shade of blue Rose had ever seen — it reminded her rather of the Doctor’s eyes, although that was something she’d never vocalise — and the sand was an almost perfect golden colour. 

“ _This is brilliant_!” Rose squealed, giving his arm a hug. “Ooh, look, they’ve got a drink that’s pink over there!” 

“Let me sonic it before you touch anything,” the Doctor said sharply.

“Yes, Doctor,” Rose chimed, rolling her eyes but affectionately leaning her head on his shoulder. 

“Why didn’t we come here earlier?” Jack asked, eyeing a passing alien woman.

“Because the Doctor’s a grump, and because he’s a rubbish pilot,” Rose said conversationally, ignoring the Doctor’s loud, “Oi!” 

“That explains it,” Jack said distractedly, before striding up to catch up to the woman and saying, “Hey there, Captain Jack Harkness…” 

“Well, we know what he’ll be doing for the next three hours,” Rose grimaced. “Let’s get some of that.”

“For breakfast?” the Doctor exclaimed, grimacing at the mountain of chocolate ice cream on a wafer cone she’d pointed at. 

“S’technically almost noon here.”

Rose grinned at him, tongue between her teeth as she fluttered her lashes at him. He looked away in embarrassment before saying loudly, “All right. On your own head be it.”

She beamed at him again as he purchased for her a far smaller version of the ice cream mountain — so as not to make her sick, he said with care — and when he started to stroll away Rose asked, “Aren’t you getting one too? They’ve got bananas instead of sprinkles, if you want.” Five minutes later they were strolling down the market path, holding hands and licking their individual cones, pretending that every time they bumped into each other was ‘accidental’. Despite Doctor’s ice cream being monstrous in comparison to Rose’s, he finished first, licking his free hand happily. “How come yours was bigger?” 

“Better metabolism than you,” he said, ignoring her when she stuck her tongue out at him. “Eat your ice cream, it’s dribbling,” he added on an order.

“Yes Mum,” she said sarcastically, darting her tongue out to catch a running drip of ice cream. He swallowed hard and looked away, heat creeping up over his cheeks when he imagined that tongue doing the same thing, only somewhere else. “Shit!” she exclaimed, making him jump when the ice cream not only dribbled over her hand, but also promptly fell off its cone and smeared over, of all places, her chest before plopping onto the ground. “Well that’s brilliant. Got any napkins?”

It took him a moment to answer, since his attention was completely locked on the droplets of melted cream sliding over the arch of her breasts and disappearing into her dress. “Er… yeah,” he managed, tearing his eyes away and stuffing his hand in his pocket to pull out a wad of paper napkins. 

“Thanks,” Rose said offhandedly, not noticing the fact that he was now staring hard at a plastic pinwheel so as to avoid watching her clean off her cleavage. “That’s a bloody waste, that.”

“You know I’ve got an unlimited supply of credits, right?” he frowned, though now focusing his attention on a cloud shaped like a key.

“Yeah, I know,” Rose chuckled to herself, letting go of his hand for a moment so she could use it to clean ice cream off her other hand. “S’an old habit Mum drilled into me, I s’pose. Waste not, want not.”

“Good policy,” the Doctor agreed, reclaiming her hand. “On the planet Belen it’s punishable by death to waste something. The people used to be dirt poor — left their home planet with barely a penny to their name to escape their ruler — but in the first thousand years they…”

Rose listened attentively to his off-world lecture as normal, smirking slightly but otherwise paying attention with delight as he rambled on about their first millennium’s rise to prosperity and even adding in the structure of their government for good measure. They walked through the market for a good hour, chatting away as usual, until Rose spotted something at a far away vendor’s stall and asked for the credit stick. 

“Mum’ll love it,” Rose beamed at the beaded V-shaped necklace. 

“It’s called a sekling,” he said as he handed her the credit stick. “Do I have to be there when you give it to her?” The Doctor grimaced, rubbing his cheek in remembrance of Jackie’s colossal slap. 

“I don’t think she’d like that either,” Rose said, giving him a sharp look whilst simultaneously releasing his hand. 

Now that she had her back turned, he allowed himself a full look at her bum, where her skirt was dancing around tauntingly as she bounced towards the stall. Rassilon, she was lovely. He watched her start to interact with the vendor, wearing an expression that even he wouldn’t deny was loving. He’d never touch her, but oh, he could dream, which was most definitely something he did often. Waking up hard and throbbing from dreams of Rose naked and writhing, forcing him most nights to take himself in hand until his come drenched the sheets and his cries of release disappeared into the pillows, was second nature to him now. 

“Did you know you’re staring at her?” Jack’s cheerful voice rudely broke through his thoughts, startling him.

“What?” he said dazedly.

Jack grinned and shook his head in amusement, hands in his jeans’ pockets. He had the nerve to look mockingly pleased even when the corner of his mouth had lipstick stains on it. “Y’know Doc, for the life of me, I haven’t figured out why you won’t just shove Rose up against a wall and fuck her.”

“ _Harkness_ ,” the Doctor growled warningly.

If there was one thing Jack was good at, it was ignoring a warning while never once losing his smile. “I mean it! The only reason I don’t do it is because I know Rose’ll end up finding pieces of me scattered through the TARDIS.”

“Actually she’s not gonna find any evidence, ‘cos I’m gonna send you out the airlock,” the Doctor growled. 

“Fair enough,” Jack said. “Are you gonna do the same thing to the other guy?”

“What other guy?” he frowned.

Jack smirked and nodded his head in Rose’s direction, and the Doctor nearly got whiplash from jerking his head around. She’d purchased the sekling necklace already, but a Harkness-esque, handsome Jinn bloke had stolen her attention— and her tongue-in-teeth smile. Jack turned away, smirking, at first so as not to watch him stomp over there and pummel the Jinn into the ground, but then he spotted a group of mauve giggling Eireenian girls and his intended chivalry flew out the window. Nonetheless, in two seconds flat the Doctor had all but materialised next to Rose, towering over the other bloke behind her back.

“Ready?” he said in a voice masked with cheerfulness (maybe a bit too much).

“Yep,” she said brightly, slipping her hand into his at once much to the Doctor’s delight. He even sent a smirk to the bright fuchsia-coloured Jinn, who simply raised his thick violet eyebrows. “Bye,” she added to said Jinn, and his smirk grew into something decidedly pleased when Rose turned and strode away with him.

“New friend?” the Doctor said airily.

“Not really,” Rose said. “He just wanted to know if I’d be going to a party at some club. Reckon he was one of their promoters.”

_Oh_. The Doctor felt a wave of guilt wash over him, and of shame. He’d been so caught up in his near uncontrollable possessive rampage, he’d sent the innocent kid a look terrifying enough to cause any alien to wet himself (it had happened on more than one occasion). The Doctor then resolved to think before he acted and not be so controlling over the woman he had no claim to… at least, until, he notice several bull-headed Mondonians sniggering to themselves and drinking in Rose’s figure like she was one of the grey martinis they each had in their hands, and he by design sent them yet another Oncoming Storm glare that had them all hastily walking in the other direction.

Okay, he needed to work on that.

“Ooh, what’s that?” Rose said, giving his hand a squeeze.

“What’s what, Rosie?” Jack said from behind them, before the Doctor could answer.

Rose immediately turned to him and rolled her eyes. “You couldn’t honestly have gotten laid that quickly! Also you have lipstick all over your face.”

“Nah, just a make out session with three Eireenians and a lovely eyebrow flirt with a Delphoni,” Jack grinned suavely, accepting one of the ice cream napkins from Rose and wiping off his face. “Better?”

“Nah, you’ve still got some,” Rose said, pointing to the corner of her mouth.

“Why don’t you wipe it off?” Jack suggested with an eyebrow waggle, apparently immune to the glare of death the Doctor was sending him.

“You wish,” Rose scoffed.

Tugging on the Doctor’s hand, she pointed to what had caught her attention earlier: a stand of — he rolled his eyes and grimaced — overly colourful drinks. “You just had ice cream.”

“Now I want one of those,” she grinned, fluttering her lashes at him in a way that made him flush and Jack smirk. “We can drink them on the beach.”

“Is it really necessary to have one in every colour of the bloody spectrum?” the Doctor grumbled instead.

“Yes,” she replied with an eye roll of her own. “C’mon. Maybe they have banana daiquiris?” 

“Ooh, they have whiskey and hypervodka,” Jack said, and he immediately grabbed the Doctor’s arm and hauled him towards the stand, and because of their intertwined hands Rose was pulled as well.

Ten minutes later, the clearly grumpy-faced Doctor was being led away from the market and onto the stretch of golden sand, ridiculously yellow drink in one hand. There were white lounge chairs spaced out in singles along the shoreline; each one of them had a stack of towels and a small burlap bag placed on top of them, and had its own side table. Jack made a beeline for the nearest empty one, dragging two other nearby ones closer so they could all sit together before tossing the towels and the bag onto the sand and flopping onto the first one. 

“What the hell?” he said at once, frowning and reaching underneath his bum, pulling out a cheap artificial flower necklace. “Neat.”

Rose snickered when Jack draped it around his neck with a satisfied look on his face, before letting go of the Doctor’s hand and picking up a second one placed carefully on her own chair. “Complimentary?” she grinned at the grimacing Doctor, before draping hers around his neck.

“Gorgeous,” Jack said, laughing at the horrified look on the Doctor’s face.

“Highly doubt that,” he said stonily, tugging the flower necklace off and tossing it to the ground.

“Do I need sunscreen?” Rose asked.

He shook his head, pointing to the twin suns. “There’s an artificial, invisible screen over the populated areas of the planet. Blocks out any harmful UV rays.”

“That’s useful,” Rose noted.

“Takes away the fun of getting someone else to rub it in though,” Jack said forlornly, grinning at Rose, who rolled her eyes.

“What’s in here?” Rose cooed, heading to the chair in the middle, setting down her pink martini and opening the burlap bag. “Ooh, tanning oils!”

“ _Those_ are complimentary,” the Doctor explained, placing his own drink down, crossing his arms and shooting a glare at a group of passing pretty boys behind Rose’s back. 

“There’s a ball in there!” Rose said happily, pulling out a deflated plastic beach ball. She waved it in his face. “Wanna play?”

He swallowed, forcing his mind away from the dirty thoughts her phrase invoked. “No.”

“I do,” Jack grinned.

“No you don’t,” the Doctor growled.

“Can you blow it up, Jack?” Rose asked, oblivious to their conversation.

“I’m good at blowing things,” Jack said happily, taking the deflated ball.

Rose dissolved into giggles, clutching the Doctor’s arm and snorting, “Ew.”

“We were all thinking it,” Jack shrugged, turning away casually and starting to blow up the beach ball.

“No we weren’t,” the Doctor muttered.

“Let’s go swimming,” Rose said when she was finished laughing, tugging on his jacket sleeve.

“You go,” the Doctor said, pretending to have his attention captured by another passing Jinn so she wouldn’t see his face, tomato red at the image of her flouncing around the water in a pathetic excuse for a bathing costume. 

“But I want you to come,” she pouted, lower lip sticking out.

“I hate swimming,” he said swiftly.

Rose frowned and looked ready to tell him off, but something caught the corner of her eye. With a growing grin and a stifled giggle she whipped out her mobile from her handbag and snapped a picture of Jack with her mobile. “Nice.”

He pulled his mouth away from the half-inflated ball. “What?” 

“Nothing,” she said airily, whilst casually craning the mobile screen so the Doctor could see the snapshot of Jack with his cheeks puffed up like a chipmunk. 

“What?” Jack repeated on a whine, when even the Doctor sniggered. 

“Nothing,” he echoed, before turning to Rose. “You go swimming. I’m gonna get a book from the TARDIS.”

“‘Kay,” she said a bit forlornly, plopping down on her own chair and sipping her pink drink.

He felt a bit guilty at her tone, but it was still outweighed by the fantastically terrifying aspect of being in the same airspace as her while she was nearly naked, so he ignored the guilt and started to trudge away. Before he left he glanced back, which was probably the biggest mistake of his life— upon turning around, the first thing that met his gaze was Rose’s bikini clad bum pointed in his direction as she stripped off her yellow skirt. His erection soared to life in an instant, and in his haste to turn his head and get away he missed the way the ball went slack in Jack’s mouth at the sight of her. The Doctor wove through the crowd in the market, his erection rubbing uncomfortably against the fly of his jeans as he made a beeline for the TARDIS. The second he fumbled with the key in the lock and shut the doors behind him, his hand shot down to his fly, ripping it open as he crossed the console room, cock already out by the time he sank down onto the jump seat. 

A ragged groan ripped from his throat the moment he wrapped his hand around his shaft and started pumping desperately, despite the dejected wish that it was her hand instead of his in the back of his mind. Pleasure pulsed from his stroking, but his hand was too cool and too calloused— he wanted a searing hot grip and slender, soft fingers. He forced those thoughts from his mind, manipulating his body temperature so his skin would heat up, and a whiny sob tumbled from his lips when his hand grew warm too. For a moment he could really pretend it was Rose with an ironclad grip around his cock, brushing her pink-painted thumb over his leaking tip and twisting her wrist to the side. He came with another sob, spilling himself over his hand and jumper, whimpering as aftershocks made his body jerk on the jump seat before he finally slumped back. Shame crept up his face when his hormones calmed down— what kind of stupid ape was he, running off to wank and leaving his companion behind when all she asked for was a nice day at the beach? 

He sighed with disgust, heading into his en suite to clean himself up and changing his jumper to another one of the same colour so they (namely Jack) wouldn’t suspect anything before heading into the library and taking an advanced quantum physics textbook. 

“That took a while,” Jack noted when the Doctor returned. Rose was absent and Jack was now bouncing the fully inflated ball on his knee.

“Couldn’t find the book,” the Doctor grunted, sinking into the seat furthest to the right. “Where’s Rose?”

Jack smirked again and pointed. “Over there.”

The Doctor craned his neck, looking to the right; his hearts dropped into his stomach when he spotted Rose right at the edge of the shore — and _fuck_ , her bikini was so small it was almost pathetic — with a Nephyrian bloke with dark brown, scaly skin whose expression was one Jack would be proud of. He heard said captain snort when he shot up out of his seat but ignored him, heading straight for the two of them, catching snippets of their conversation.

“… interested in aliens,” Rose was saying, tongue between her teeth, and the Nephyrian chuckled smoothly and said, “Definitely.”

The Doctor was practically trembling with anger by the time he reached them, standing behind Rose and glaring needle-sharp daggers at the bloke, whose face slackened at once. She was confused at the change in his expression for a quarter of a second before sighing and turning her head, giving the Doctor an annoyed look. “What’re you doin’?” 

“Was wonderin’ where you went, is all,” he lied, Oncoming Storm eyes still locked on the Nephyrian.

“Right,” she said disbelievingly. “This is Feo. I was just gonna introduce him to _Jack_.”

“Oh,” he said, sheepishness creeping into his voice as he looked at his boots.

Rose gave him a still slightly annoyed smile, patting him on the arm and pointing in Jack’s direction with a, “Go on, I guarantee he’ll love to meet you.” 

Feo nodded at her in thanks and strolled up to Jack nervously, who immediately bounced up with an audible, “Captain Jack Harkness, and who are you, sexy?”

“What the hell was that?” Rose said with exasperation a moment later, hand on her hip in a perfect (disturbing) imitation of her mother. 

“What?” he said vaguely, hands in his pockets.

“You know what, ya bloody alien,” Rose said, glaring at him. “How come every time I so much as look at someone else, you have to go all Oncoming Storm on them?”

“Do not,” he argued, not untruthfully since it technically wasn’t _everyone_ , and before she could retort he added, “Didn’t you say you wanted to go swimming?”

“Was about to, then I met Feo,” she said, giving up on the argument. “How come it took you so long to fetch a book?”

_I was fucking my hand and pretending it was you_. “No reason,” he said instead, face flaming. “Go swim, don’t go out too far, and if you see a shark, don’t panic.”

Her face dropped into shock. “A _shark_?!” 

“Sharkfish, actually,” the Doctor said. “Miniature sharks, but about as harmful as your average rock bass. There’s a bunch of ‘em around these parts.” 

“Thanks for the heads-up,” she said gratefully, giving his arm a squeeze before strolling out into the sweeping ocean.

He made an extra effort to walk away so as to avoid staring at her — did she have _any_ idea, at all, how bloody lovely she was? — and made his way to their now empty chairs, sinking into his and noting in his mind that they probably wouldn’t see Jack until sunrise the next day. 

He skimmed through the quantum physics book for two hours, sipping his banana daiquiri and occasionally (often) glancing up from it to make sure Rose wasn’t wading out too far. He’d grown hard again watching her flounce into the ocean earlier, and every time he watched her wade through the ocean between the occasional alien swimmer his erection throbbed, but he couldn’t exactly run off to the TARDIS _again_ , so he ignored it and tried to concentrate on his book. 

She returned at the end of the second hour, dripping wet skin shining in the sun and making the pulsing in his cock speed up slightly until she covered herself up with a fluffy towel. “I love it here,” she announced happily, sinking down into the seat next to him and scooting it over so she could lean her head on his shoulder, to his delight. “The water’s clear as crystal an’ those little shark things you were talkin’ about come right up to you like they were askin’ to be pet.” He hummed happily, ridiculously pleased with himself even though he hadn’t wanted to come here in the first place. “How are you not a baked potato?” she added, poking his leather-clad arm. “You’re wearin’ all black.”

“Superior Time Lord biology,” he said smugly, letting go of his book so he could reach over with one hand. “Feel.”

He pressed his hand to the side of her face, and she let out a pleased moan that went straight to his cock. “Blimey, your hand’s like ice.”

“Yep,” he said, face heating up when she kept his hand on her cheek. “Er, hungry? Could get some chips.”

“You’re a life saver, you are,” she said, making him grin goofily, hop up and stroll through the sand up to the market.

Upon weaving through the crowd in search of chips, he spotted Jack and the Nephyrian from earlier snogging furiously and groping each other against the chip stand, nearly tipping it over and making the vendor look immensely uncertain of what to do. Rolling his eyes, he said loudly, “Is this really an appropriate place, Harkness?”

Feo jumped and half-hid behind Jack, making the Doctor feel a little guilty, but Jack merely pulled his mouth back with a loud smacking noise and beamed at him. “Is there ever an appropriate place?”

“Somewhere far away from here,” the Doctor replied. “Budge up— Rose wants chips.”

“I’ll only let you have some if you feed them to her,” Jack said with a wide grin, but when Feo snorted and the Doctor gave him the glare of death, he sighed, muttered, “You’re no fun,” and stepped aside, much to the vendor’s clear relief. “And don’t wait up!” Jack added, grabbing Feo’s arse and using it to lead him into the crowd.

Muttering with disgust, the Doctor bought a giant box of chips and returned to the beach, where he saw yet another group of pretty boys — human, this time — slowly down their pace and eyeing the sunbathing Rose with a kind of sickeningly hungry expression. The Doctor gave them a glare fiery enough to heat up the already humid air, and they scattered like a flock of pigeons, Rose none the wiser. Feeling inexplicably cheerful now that that was accomplished, he bounced up to her and plopped the chip box onto the table.

“Fantastic,” she said happily, reaching over and grabbing one. 

“I’ll have you know I had to valiantly fight through Harkness and that Nephyrian idiot to get ‘em,” the Doctor said, grabbing a handful for himself.

“Snogging?” she guessed, and he nodded with a grimace. “My hero.”

Even though she said it with sarcasm, he sent her a happy grin. “We’ll not be seeing him until way after sunset.” 

“Good,” Rose declared, making him frown.

“Thought you liked Harkness,” he said confusedly.

“‘Course I do,” she assured him, smiling up at him brilliantly, “but s’nice to hang out with just you. Like before.”

He was well aware that his grin had turned into something decidedly goofy, utterly pleased. “The old team?” 

She hummed in unison, sending him a tongue-in-teeth smile as he reached over and grabbed her hand, and they beamed at each other like idiots until she added, “Can I have some chips now?”

He chuckled. “Yes, Rose.”

Her admittance kept him in high spirits for the rest of the day— they lounged on the beach for the majority of it, eating chips, talking and laughing so hard it made passers-by give them odd looks. The crowd started to thin when the first sun set, and soon they were the only ones there, striding on the beach hand in hand again as the air started to cool considerably. When they reached an area shaded by trees very reminiscent to palm trees, a lovely, private little grove right by the shoreline, they found a patch of grass perfect for them to lie down on without getting too much sand on their bums. Her head was nestled in the crook of his neck and their hands were twined together and resting on his chest, and everything was absolutely _fantastic_. Thankfully she’d put back on her skirt and vest top, because he wasn’t certain what he’d do if they were snuggling with her as barely covered as she had been.

“Rose?” he said, after a long stretch of comfortable silence.

“Hm?” she replied sleepily, giving his hand a squeeze and nudging her head closer.

“Are you asleep?”

“Completely,” she mumbled, and he chuckled before she added, “Was almost asleep. S’comfy here.”

“Yeah?” he said happily. 

She hummed again, and he let out a silly-sounding, content sigh. “Doctor?”

“No, I’m not asleep either.”

Rose giggled. “No, that’s not what I… I just wanted to say thank you.” The Doctor frowned, trying to crane his head to look at her, but all he saw was the top of her head because of her position. “I know you didn’t wanna come here, so I’m sayin’ thank you.”

He shrugged. “Turned out fun.”

“Yeah, it did,” she said happily. “Why don’t you like the beach anyway?”

“Oh, y’know, a number of reasons,” he said vaguely, glad the fiery light from the final sunset ensured she wouldn’t see his flushed cheeks. 

“Like…?” she egged him. 

“Stupidly colourful drinks, annoying pretty boys—” he sent her a patronising glance that she couldn’t see, “— sand up your bum.”

She burst into giggles again, muffled by his jacket. “That happen often to you, then?”

“Not that often, no,” he smirked. 

“I think it’s fun,” Rose replied.

“You think getting sand up your bum is _fun_?” he said with incredulity.

She snorted. “ _No_ — going to the beach. S’warm an’ pretty an’ there are chips practically next to your face.”

“A lot of places are warm and pretty and have chips next to your face and aren’t near beaches,” he argued.

“What about swimming?”

“I hate swimming.”

“You are just determined to hate everything, aren’t you?” she laughed, nudging his side with her elbow. 

“Yes,” he declared, grinning goofily and turning his head just as she did the same in an effort to look up at him. 

The second it registered to both of them that their faces were so close their noses were touching, both smiles vanished like smoke in the wind and their eyes met, both reflecting a kind of terrified astonishment. One of his hearts sped up to a jittery gallop while the other one slowed into a cautious gait, and he tried to back away when fear starting tightening his chest but found himself completely paralysed. Her breath, which had sped up slightly, kept hitting his mouth and making him want to lean forward, but since his body was as useless as a block of cement the only thing that moved was his eyes, flickering down to her mouth briefly. 

That spurred something in her, because she muttered, “Fuck it,” and leaned forward so their lips had no choice but to meet. Something simultaneously warm and a little painful swept through his stomach, but he still couldn’t seem to move anything, let alone his mouth; she parted her lips anyway, forcing his open and slipping her tongue inside. When it curled over his, his rigid limbs turned to jelly and his tongue wrapped around hers at once, hand letting go of hers so he could slip it over the small of her back and shove her closer. 

Her movements when he hadn’t been responding had been stiff and nervous, but the moment the Doctor started snogging her like his life depended on it she turned to butter in his arms, her hands curling around the sleeves of his jumper and tugging on them to pull him closer. He sucked her bottom lip between his, giving it a nibble and feeling a thrill wash over him when she let out a beautiful noise, a cross between a whimper and a sigh. She suddenly moved, and for one horrifying moment he thought she was pulling away until her leg tossed itself over his legs and she rolled on top of him so she was straddling his hips, never once parting their lips. 

The Doctor gasped out the second her bum ground against the seam of his jeans, his cock hardening at once, and his hands flew off her back to grip her hips and push her closer. It clearly encouraged her, since her hands fisted on the hem of his jumper and shoved it up his chest; he whimpered with disappointment when Rose pulled her mouth away so she could push it over his head. At first he was nervous — not just because this would change everything, but because where they were was relatively public and someone could stumble on them — but she gave him a soothing rake of her nails on his abdomen and he stopped worrying about it. His back lifted to help and crashed back down, half of it hitting the leather from his jacket and the other half being pricked by sand, grass and stones. He tried to adjust his position, wriggling to try and shy away from the discomfort, but the movement of his hips pushing his fly against her clit made her jerk, teeth sinking into her lower lip, and he stopped caring altogether. 

Waves of heat rolled over him with every roll of her hips despite the coolness of the air; for a while all they were doing was grinding against each other, Rose occasionally reaching up and tweaking his nipples with her fingers, but he grew impatient quickly and tugged her vest top over her head. Her own nipples were visibly erect through the thin white material of her bikini top, so he made away with that with a quick flick of his fingers over the ties so he could curl his hands around her breasts and soothe the ache with his thumbs. She leaned down to kiss him again and push her breasts into his hands, reaching down with her own to undo the button on his jeans. 

She paused when he lifted his hips to let her tug off his jeans, pulling her mouth away and sending him a look through half-lowered lids that could only be classified as filth incarnate. “You’re not wearin’ any pants.”

He blushed crimson, face burning only slightly hotter than the rest of him, and she smirked at him and followed the flush with her tongue. “Didn’t bother puttin’ any— _oh_ ,” he gasped, when she bit down lightly on the shell of his ear. 

“Not complainin’,” she said huskily, hot breath rolling down his neck. “Didn’t wear knickers a bunch of times.”

He groaned at that, his frankly magnificent brain conjuring up each and every one of their adventures and his exposed cock throbbing when he imagined her knickerless in all of them. “Which ones?”

“Which ones d’you think?” He opened his mouth to suggest something, but his words turned into a garbled moan when her hand wrapped around his shaft and gave it a couple of short, quick jerks. _Oh_ , but he’d dreamed of this— her hand was searing hot and just as soft as he’d dreamed of. “Doctor?”

“Hnn,” gurgled out of his throat, and she gave him a squeeze to encourage him to speak and he pushed his hips into her hand. “ _Unh_ — W-Woman Wept?”

“Too cold,” she said, chasing a bead of liquid on his tip with her thumb. “Try again.”

“ _Ooh_ … D-Darillium Mallus?”

“When I was wearin’ a skirt an’ we hopped for our lives?” Rose snorted. “Not bloody likely.”

“Tell me,” he gasped, resuming the ministrations of his own hands and revelling in the way her breathing sped up slightly. 

She sucked on his earlobe for a moment, prolonging the anticipation before she murmured, “Cardiff.”

His head slammed back against the sand, gritted teeth letting out a hissed, “ _Fuck_ ,” at her declaration— she’d been knickerless in _Cardiff_? In that bloody dress that had turned his brain to mush and made all his blood soar south of his belt buckle? 

“Like that?” she grinned, twisting her wrist around him rewardingly. 

“You weren’t wearin’ any knickers in the first outfit that made me feel like a stupid ape,” he grunted. “How can I not like that?”

As she chuckled into his ear, a gentle breeze swept over them, reminding him that he was naked and she was not. Hooking his thumbs into the hem of both her yellow skirt and her bikini bottom, he shoved it down her legs, shuddering at the telltale fluid on the inside of her thighs shining in the sunset, and gripped her hips to try and position her. She gave him one last pump with her fist before lining him up with her dripping entrance and sinking onto him with a whine.

He kicked his head back as her heat enclosed him— Rassilon, she was so _hot_. At once everything around him disappeared and the cool air vanished, his whole body washing over with a wave of fire as she started to move on top of him. His breaths came out uneven with every thrust and she swallowed them by leaning over and kissing him again, keening when his grip on her hips tightened enough to leave possessive bruises as he raised and lowered her, guiding her movements.

At first the only noises he made were his ragged breathing, biting back the cacophony of moans he really wanted to utter just in case anybody heard them, until she angled her hips so his cock brushed against her inner spot, making her utter a beautifully loud moan that had him answering back with a wordless cry. In the distance he could still hear the muted chatter of patrons walking through the nighttime market, but he stopped caring, groaning helplessly as she picked up her rhythm. He was burning, his blood turning to molten lava, each thrust into her a baptism of fire washing over him. Sweat beaded on his temples, dripping onto the sand, and his skin tingled with crackling flame. He hitched one leg around her waist and flipped them over without ever once slipping out of her or parting their lips, taking care to lower her onto his jacket so she wouldn’t have any rocks digging into her back before starting to pound into her. She jerked hard, biting down on his bottom lip from the pleasure as he fucked her against his jacket— he was never going to be able to wear it again without getting insanely turned on in remembrance of this. 

“Doctor…” she whined, her hands gripping his sand-covered arse, “‘m gonna… are you—?”

“Fuck, yes,” he moaned, shoving his hand between them to violently pinch her clit.

It only took a few more thrusts to get her to shatter, and he ignored the tightening in his balls to pull back and watch her, drinking in her arched eyebrows and earth-shaking expression until his own orgasm forced his eyes shut. His shoulders tensed and his head dropped onto her chest, groaning out his release against her shining skin until his limbs turned to mush and he dropped on top of her, panting raggedly. She combed her fingers through his hair lovingly, pressing her mouth against his temple until he stopped trembling.

“Rose?” he mumbled against her breasts.

“Hmm?” 

“I’ve got sand in my bum.”

She burst into giggles, and he raised his head to grin at her goofily. “Me too. Seems worth it, though, don’t it?” 

“Oh Rose,” he said lovingly, slipping out of her and scooting up so he could spoon her. “Definitely worth it.”

Rose hummed happily, nuzzling her nose into his neck and brushing sand off his back. “You’re hot.”

“Thank you,” he beamed. 

“No, I meant—” She laughed. “I meant your skin. It was cool before but now it’s boiling.”

“I _was_ just engaged in some strenuous physical activity,” he pointed out. “And it is summer.”

“Mm.” She wriggled closer to him, frowning with confusion when she felt him harden against her at her movements. “Already?”

“Time Lord superiority,” the Doctor said smugly.

“Fantastic,” she grinned, reaching down and wrapping her hand around his erection again. “Want to get some more sand up our arses?”

“Fantastic,” he echoed, and their laughter got intermingled as she flipped herself on top of him again.

*

Jack walked hand in hand with Feo down the moonlit shore, having just returned from a lovely afternoon (and evening) of delightful screwing in various places — once even behind a fruit stand — now in search of the Doctor and Rose. They’d been looking for a solid hour and a half to no avail— Jack had checked the TARDIS when Feo was well out of proximity, but they weren’t waiting for him in the console room, nor were they at their previous spot by the beach. 

“Where the hell could they be?” Jack swore. “I wonder if they got arrested.”

“Maybe they got a room,” Feo suggested with a snort. “That ears bloke practically murdered me with his eyes when I was talkin’ to Rose.”

Jack echoed his snort, also supplying an eye roll. “Trust me— they did _not_ get a room. The fucking I’ve-got-a-chastity-belt-under-my-jeans Doctor would _never_ —” 

He stopped talking when they approached a grove of arching trees, from which a series of groans and whimpers were emitting. Feo gave him an eyebrow waggle, but Jack ignored it, still not convinced it was his friends until a female voice cried out, “Doctor!” which was followed by what was definitely the Doctor’s Northern burr grunting out, “ _Rose_ …”

“Well I’ll be. It’s about fucking time,” Jack swore, giving Feo’s hand a squeeze and pulling him away from the grove.

“Can’t we join them?” Feo supplied.

“Not unless you want to die painfully,” Jack grinned, giving his ass a smack. “Now let’s go back to the hotel— listening to them made me horny.”

Feo laughed as they headed back into the market.

**Author's Note:**

>  **Beta: Miral-Romanov**.  
>  **All my fics can be found on fanfiction.net, teaspoon and tumblr**.  
>  A/N: A lovely little summer fic for my favourite season :) Unfortunately, up here in Canada it's effing freezing despite it being the first day of summer -_- This was part of the Who Holidays series even though it's not really an international holiday. The next in this series won't be until Hallowe'en (I mean it this time). Hope you liked, please review!


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